


Return to a Graveyard

by TrinNeedsTWS



Category: Arrow (TV 2012), DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/F, F/M, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-28
Updated: 2020-01-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:27:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22449427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrinNeedsTWS/pseuds/TrinNeedsTWS
Summary: How Sara chooses to mourn after her father dies, and how the people who care won't let her.
Relationships: Oliver Queen/Felicity Smoak, Sara Lance/Ava Sharpe
Kudos: 90





	Return to a Graveyard

**Author's Note:**

> This is my second fanfic I'm posting and I'm hopefully gonna be more active this time because! I graduated! I know no one cares lol but I'll have time for this stuff and trying to create and I'm excited.

“Gideon tell the others I have business in 2018 and I’ll be back in a week, tops. No one is allowed to leave or shift from the temporal zone, if they have issues, they can ask Ava, but they have the days I’m gone off,” I ordered.

“Are you sure this is wise, Captain?” Gideon asked.

“No, but I have a funeral and some drinking to do. I don’t wanna do it here,” I sighed.

I opened up the jump ship and slung my overnight bag onto one of the chairs, gratified by the hiss of the hydraulics pulling it shut behind me.

“Thanks, Gideon. Don’t take any orders you think are stupid,” I said, strapping myself in.

“Good luck, Captain.”

I tapped my intended co-ordinates into the console and slammed the time-jump control forward, wanting to get this ordeal over with as soon as possible. Tinged green, the world whipped past before it settled on a familiar, sky-scrapered horizon. I could see my whole city, recognised and mapped in my head, littered with painful and joyful memories. It glittered in the sun, oblivious and unchanging still in all the years I had disappeared from and returned to it.

Steering gingerly, making sure I was cloaked, I set the ship down on top of a building in the middle of the city, far from the Glades where I knew it was more likely to be found by snooping teens and miscreants. Collecting my things, I exited the jump ship and watched it shimmer into invisibility behind me before I found the building’s stairs. It was only a few floors, and the mindless drop of my heel and flex of my hip to descend them was soothing as I prepared myself for the visit. When I reached the ground floor, I nodded to the guard at the door and left the building, making a mental note to scale it from the outside when I returned. I hadn’t brought equipment that would allow me to do it—my first mistake—so I decided to find Ollie’s bunker before I did anything else. It would save me from having to stay at my sister’s old pad, in any case. Reluctantly, I shoved my hand in my pocket to withdraw my phone and call Felicity, who was way more likely to pick up than her husband.

After a long five rings, she picked up.

“Sara, hi! I didn’t know you were in town.”

Her voice was calming, grounding. A piece of my slightly less complicated and slightly less painful past, where my sister and father weren’t dead.

“Uh, yeah. I just got here. Laurel called and…” I replied.

“I was going to, and then…I don’t know. I didn’t know how to tell you. I was still working it out,” Felicity said.

“I get it. I just wanted to let you know. I was thinking about setting up in the bunker?”

“That’s fine. You should have clearance. I’ll come by later?”

“Yeah,” I said.

“Cool. I’ll see you later I have to pick Will up.”

“Bye.”

She hung up, and I scanned my surroundings. I could walk to the campaign building from here, luckily. I had no money on me, and even if I did, it wouldn’t be much. Skipping town for months at a time does that to a person.

My pace was steady and fast, despite my hefty load. I had meant it when I said I’d be staying a week. The place was dusty and unused, tattered and faded posters and documents strewn around on the floor and walls. I ignored all of it and let myself into the elevator, impatient during the ride down.

The sight I saw when the doors opened was something I was accustomed to, so much so I felt some of the tension bleed out of me. The bows and the arrows and the other weapons just so; the computers running data, always ready to send the team into action; the lights gleaming and the place put away and tidy even through all of the attacks aimed at it.

Sighing, resetting my brain, I trudged over to the darker corner of the room and threw my things onto the small, single cot there. I hesitated for only a second before I rummaged through it and pulled out my sports bra, leggings and gloves and put them on.

Wrapping my fingers around the bar of the salmon ladder and pulling myself up was easy and welcomed by my muscles. The clang of the bar on the slots was gratifying to my ears and the burn of my core, shoulders and arms was delicious. I had been doing it for over half an hour when I heard the electronic hiss and slide of the elevator, and dropped down, bending my knees to take the shock of falling from a slightly larger than usual height.

My hair was tied back but I smoothed the loose strands down as Felicity trotted into the bunker.

“Hi,” I said, managing a genuine smile.

“Hey,” she responded, pulling herself up the stairs to give me a hug.

“I’m sweaty,” I winced, pulling away.

She shrugged, putting her bag down next to one her monitors.

“How are you?” I asked, watching as she slid into one of her chairs and took off her heels.

“I could be better,” my friend admitted, rubbing her forehead.

I uttered a dry laugh and went to find Dig’s whiskey. It was in a drawer in the opposing desk, and I offered it to her as I pulled out the glasses. To my surprise, she took it and uncapped it to pour it into the crystal I was holding out. Handing one to her, I dragged the other desk chair over and sat down, careful not to press my sweaty back on the leather.

“How’s the team?” Felicity asked, considering her alcohol.

“They’re fine. They’re great. I put them on lockdown while I’m away though. Last time I left them for over an hour they destroyed the ship and got Amaya’s totem stolen,” I supplied, sipping my own.

“Sounds like them,” Felicity smiled.

“Oh yeah. I’m never having kids. I think this is what it’s like. I don’t need kids.”

“Maybe. Mine isn’t like that,” the hacker said, finally drinking from her glass.

“What’s he like, then?” I probed. Talking about anything but my father was good. Ignoring the fact my sister’s doppelganger was somewhere in the city, pretending to be her was even better.

Felicity sighed, glared at her glass, then downed it. I blinked.

“He’s…incredible. He’s smart and patient and so so wonderful. I just wish his dad was home more,” Felicity said, putting the glass on her counter so it clinked.

“Horny, are we?” I joked, pouring myself more whiskey.

That earned me an eye-roll. “No. I miss him, and Will misses him.”  
“I know. It’ll…calm down soon. Once all this has passed.”

“By ‘all this’ do you mean your father?” Felicity said.

That stopped me short. If it was anyone but adorable, bold Felicity I would have got up and walked away.

“Yeah. I do.”

“You okay?”

“Just sick of funerals. Came here to drink.”

“Maybe pick up some one-night stands,” Felicity added.

Shaking my head, I swallowed half my glass. “I’m…in a relationship. And it’s important. So even though meaningless sex would be great, no sex is meaningless anymore.”

“You disappear for a year and I miss everything,” Felicity drawled. “What’s their name?”

“Ava. And _she’s_ wonderful. Way better than I deserve,” I confessed, finishing the glass.

“Now that is something I don’t believe,” Felicity argued, her eyebrows furrowed.

“Well, I’m not here to fight, so,” I shrugged, standing and cracking my neck.

“Well, actually. I think if you’re here Oliver will use you for fighting,” Felicity contradicted, spinning in her chair to keep her eyes on me.

“Doesn’t he have a team for that?” I said, placing my empty glass beside hers and descending the stairs of the raised platform.

“He does, however Rene has Zoe, who he’s a bit preoccupied with, and Dinah is trying to be a good police captain. Curtis is now working tech for ARGUS while helping me with my stuff and Dig…moved on so.”

“Ah. Well. On second thought, maybe I will help him. Could use a fight.”  
It was true. I had always been fierce and explosive, even as a kid. The League and my years starving and alone had taught me precision and restraint, but I still was. Sometimes I still liked violence, and my bloodlust liked it even more. I had left the League because I couldn’t take the killing anymore, but just like Oliver, I had sometimes enjoyed killing, had gotten savage pleasure from executing a particularly evil mark. Laurel had always been the better of us. Thankfully whatever I had of her in me won out in the end.

“Will I see her? At the funeral?” I asked, staring at the floor.

Felicity’s gaze was burning on my spine, on my scars, which prickled under the scrutiny, but I didn’t turn to see whatever version of sympathetic she was wearing.

“Yeah. She’ll be there. She was pretty close with him.”

At that moment, my phone started ringing, and I was shocked by it. It rung so rarely that I had almost forgotten it could. Hastily, I jogged over to it and answered, barely looking at the ID.

“Hello, Captain,” said Gideon’s cool voice on the other end.

“Oh, hi Gideon,” I said, half-relieved and half-annoyed. She knew where I was and what I was doing.

“Unfortunately, the Legends are concerned for you and are requesting to know where you are. Miss Tomaz is threatening to disable me.”

“Can you get me over the intercom?”

“Yes. They can hear you now.”

“Hey! Circus kids! If you disable Gideon I’ll beat all your asses, I don’t care whose idea it was!” I began my scolding. “Don’t come find me. That’s an order. Don’t crash the ship or go anywhere. You’ve got free time until I’m back. Ava’s in charge, okay?”

Instantaneously, I heard several voices clamouring, until I distinctly made out Ray’s, who was shouting “When will that be?”

“A week! No more than a week!”

“Where are you?” cried Nate, over Zari, who was complaining loudly.

“None of your damn business, alright? I’m hanging up now. I’ll see you guys in a week,” I yelled back.

I clicked end call. They’d have to deal without me.

“You didn’t tell them?” Felicity said, now loitering in my sleeping area.

“No. I couldn’t have them come with me.”

“They care about you.”

“I care about them. Doesn’t mean I want them messing up my plans.”

Felicity uttered her approximation of a sigh and went back to her monitors, checking the city while I showered and got changed.

About an hour of me drinking the lighter alcohol in my bag and reading one of the books I had scabbed from the library on the ship passed before Oliver arrived, still wearing his suit and a harried expression.

“Hi, babe,” Felicity said, staring at him over her screen.

“Hi, Fliss,” he said, smiling his trademarked, tiny smile at her.

His attention then shifted to me.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, quietly.

“It’s okay, Ollie,” I replied, closing the book.

He inclined his head, then said to his wife, “got anything for me?”

“Nope. It’s weird. I’m kind of scared. But I guess people get tired of being criminal-y, maybe. I don’t know. I wasn’t ever…a criminal. I don’t think.”

Ollie’s smile was indulgent and loving. “Okay. Well, do you wanna go get dinner? Or I could cook?”

“That would be amazing,” Felicity sighed, and put her shoes back on.

“Sara, you wanna come?” She offered.

Shaking my head, I held up my beer.

“That’s not dinner,” Oliver said, patiently.

Oh, he was right. I couldn’t keep drinking without dinner.

“I wouldn’t want to intrude,” I admitted.

Considering it, he then reached into his inside jacket pocket and pulled out a twenty, handing it to me silently, with no acknowledgement of the fact I had no money.

Thanking him, I stashed it in my pocket and waved as he ushered a worried Felicity into the elevator.

After finishing my chapter, I hid a few weapons on my thighs and lower back and went to go eat, choosing the closest Big Belly Burger. The twenty would last me a day and a bit, even if it wasn’t the best thing to be putting in my body. I ate alone, watching the people pass in the window. It was warm, here. Laurel had loved the heat, but Dad hadn’t. Cops liked winter: people didn’t like being outside when it was freezing. Harder to commit crime that way. They had both protected these people passing my window.

I arrived back to the bunker to three missed calls from Ava. I hadn’t told her either, but I didn’t know how. _Hey, babe. I know this is super new and I just told you I love you and everything, but my dad just died so sorry while I go deal with that._

Yeah, right. Screwing up my resolve, I called her back. It was kind of unfortunate for me that her place of work was in the exact city I needed to be in. I didn’t want her to see this.

She answered on the second ring.

“Sara, hi, I was so worried,” she blurted.

“I’m fine,” I said, placatingly.

“I went to see you but the Legends said you left with no warning and they didn’t know where you were.”

“I meant to do it. I need to deal with some stuff. _Please_ don’t look for me.”

“Sara—” she sputtered.

“Ava, I’m serious. I’ll be back in a week. Everything is okay.”

“If it’s okay why aren’t you here?” her tone was strained, almost petulant. If I didn’t know better I would have said petulant full-stop.

I was assuming _here_ was the Waverider, and I found it curious and endearing that she was still there, despite my absence. It was good she liked my team, and that my team liked her, even if (in some cases) it was only because I did. Ray still thought she was scary.

“Okay, well. It’s not okay _right at this moment,_ but by the time I’m back it will be. I’m not in danger, and I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“Sara—please.”

“I’m sorry. Don’t be mad. I need to do this. Please respect this.”

“Did I do something wrong?” Ava asked, desperately.

“ _No._ You’re perfect. I’ll be home soon. Okay?”

“Okay,” she finally accepted. She sounded miserable, and I hated myself for it.

I hung up, feeling worse than before. It would be nice to have my girlfriend here, but she knew almost nothing about my grief and even less about the people in my home that I loved and who had loved my father. It would be cruel to ask her here for me.

Getting ready for bed, I glared at myself in the tiny mirror in the tiny bathroom. The war paint under my eyes betrayed me and the battles I fought at night. Especially when she wasn’t there, which she hadn’t been the past few days and as a result I had fear-sweated through my longer pair of pyjamas and didn’t want to wait to wash them or make new ones, in case someone had caught me before I could leave. I hadn’t even bothered to strip the bed. Uncomfortably exposed, I slid into bed and closed my eyes, refusing to open them until my restless sleep dragged me under.

The next day dawned, and I woke up, groggy and exhausted, to a text from Felicity confirming the time and place of my father’s funeral. It was tomorrow, so I had another day to kill.

I already missed him so much, and it had only been a few days. I had no idea how to live under the weight of losing him. How I would ever learn to carry both burdens? I knew that, technically, I had been living without him for months on end, had gone years without seeing either of them before finally being lured back home. But the knowledge that he wouldn’t be there when I came back was dizzying.

Deciding not to spend the whole day in the sunless Arrowcave, I put on the only pair of boots I had brought—my black ones—and a long sleeve shirt and skinny jeans and ventured out into the city. I used the rest of my twenty buck to buy bus tickets to and from the cemetery. I had seen her grave once, after the Nazis, but I didn’t stay long. I couldn’t bear to. In spite of my efforts to push it out of my mind, the location of it in relation to the rest of the graves was still as clear as how new the headstone was.

There were new bunches of flowers. Other people visited her, had loved her. It was a nice thought, but also a painful one. People I didn’t know visited her, when I had been avoiding it since he told me what had happened. I had seen her, talked to her in visions since then, but here was proof, irrefutable, that I’d never see her again. And I knew this time, I made peace with it. I would never reverse what Damien had done. And because of that, I thought I was ready, now. I sat cross-legged in front of the stone, gazing at the block lettering proclaiming ‘THE BLACK CANARY.’ Glancing around to check I was alone, I said, “I miss you.”

I paused, taking in how weird it was to talk to a gravestone. I decided it didn’t matter. I knew she could hear me.

“I’m…sorry I didn’t come sooner. It was so hard, Laurel. I thought…I would lose my mind. I almost destroyed history trying to save you. I didn’t though. You wouldn’t have wanted that. You didn’t want that. You gave me my suit.”

I took one of my rings off my finger, and then replaced it, skittish about how open my back was to attack while I was facing a stone.

“Dad died. I wasn’t here—again. I hope he’s with you. I guess it’s fair that if only one of us could have him with them, it would be you. You were always so much better than me. Even with the drinking and the pills, you were always so much stronger. You caused him less pain.”

Tearing the long grass near me, I stripped one of the blades before continuing. 

“I found a girl. I’m…in love with her. You guys won’t get to meet her, but she’ll know you. I want her to know you. I wish you could have met her. Maybe I’ll take her back in time so you can, even if you won’t know what it is. Maybe I could give us that.”

It was then I sensed that I was no longer alone, and I stood, using my peripheral to assess the threat. It wasn’t—just another cemetery visitor holding flowers, frowning puzzledly at me. I didn’t mind: it was probably an odd thing to come across. Or maybe they had heard me, and thought I was crazy. I smiled tightly at the guy—barely a smile at all, just an acknowledgement, and walked to catch the next bus.

When I got back to the bunker, Felicity was typing rapidly on her keyboard.

“Sara, could you do me a favour? There’s a prison transport convoy and someone just attacked it. Below your paygrade. Easy job,” Felicity said. “Oliver’s at a meeting.”

“Sure.”

I rifled through the drawers until I found one of Oliver’s black masks, collected a few more weapons, including a spare bow and took the comm Felicity offered me before dragging his motorcycle into the elevator. As soon as I was out of the building, I revved it and followed her directions.

She was right—it was an easy job. I had the guy knocked out in under three minutes with an arrow to his bike and tied up in ten. Positioning him on my bike, I managed to get us to the station where I left him leaning against the back door.

I returned to the Arrowcave tired. Felicity took one look at me and said, “Don’t you sleep? You look even worse than yesterday.”

“Thanks,” I sighed, yawning.

I realised she was still waiting for an answer when she was still staring at me.

“Okay, no. Not the past few days. I sleep better with Ava around—even better than _that_ when she’s worn me out. But she hasn’t been around. She’s a busy girl.”

“Busy meaning important or busy meaning flaky? Because there is a difference,” Felicity claimed.

“Busy meaning important,” I confirmed.

Squinting suspiciously, she returned to her typing.

“You said it was serious. If it’s so serious why isn’t she here?”

Throwing my hands up in frustration, I tore off my mask.

“Because she doesn’t know any of you and my father just _died_ and I love her and don’t want to throw her in the deep end when its so damn new!” I cried.

Sagely, Felicity nodded. “Okay, so if you thought it would be fair, you’d have her here?”

“No. Maybe. I don’t know,” I said, some of the energy that came from the chase dissipating.

I replaced Ollie’s bow and quiver and began unstrapping the series of weapons I had close to my skin. When I had put everything back in their places, Felicity said, “Please take a nap. Do you feel better if someone’s with you?”

“Uh…yeah,” I said. There was no point arguing that now.

“Well, I’m here. I won’t leave until you wake back up, and if I do I’ll wake you, okay?”

I didn’t want to argue with her, so I didn’t; I merely changed into sweatpants, took off my jacket to reveal my singlet, and slid into bed, aware and grateful for her watching over me.

The last thing I thought of was that the codename ‘Overwatch’ was perfect for her.

I wish I could have said my first waking was peaceful, but I tore out of it screaming and only dimly aware of the tears blurring my vision. Someone—I was way too out of it to know which of my friends it was—gripped my wrists and whispered that they were there until my exhaustion won out again.

The second time was better: I was disturbed by low voices, but I felt more awake. Wanting to assess who I would be dealing with before I decided whether to ‘wake up,’ I listened closely.

It was Felicity, who had kept her promise, and someone else I knew very well. _How the fuck…?_

There was a clink of glasses and my girlfriend said, “I have no idea how you did what you did but thank you anyway.”

A self-conscious laugh from my friend. “No problem.”

A silence.

“She visited Laurel’s grave today. Stayed there for a while,” Felicity offered. Her voice was careful, restrained, as if she was resisting her usual word vomit.

Ava hummed, and I imagined her tucking her hair behind her ear. “She’s…okay with that now. Has she visited it before?”

“No. Not that I know of,” Felicity said.

Another silence.

“Do you think she would let me come to the funeral?” Ava asked, softer.

“Maybe. I…called you because she wasn’t sleeping and she has no money here, so I was hoping you’d convince her to go back to the Waverider, where she can at least eat.”

A quiet chuckle. “You must know I can’t convince her of anything. She once tried to ram her ship into mine and kill us both just to make me leave her alone.”

“Impressive. I’m very glad you backed down,” Felicity said. I was imagining her surprised eyebrows.

“You know, me too. Though I was super angry at the time.” She was smiling, I could tell.

I decided now was a good a time as any to wake up. I shoved myself into sitting upright and looked in their direction. They were gathered at the table and drinking, though I couldn’t tell what it was in the weird green light. The smaller blonde was the one without her back to me.

As I stalked towards them, Felicity focussed on me, her mouth set defiantly. Ava cocked her head, confused, before she turned to see me standing silently behind her.

“How’d you get here?” I asked, flatly.

Felicity was looking like she’d rather be anywhere else.

“Time Courier. Felicity…found me. Told me where to find you,” Ava said, calmly.

Levelling a glare at Felicity, I ascended to the platform and poured myself some whiskey.

“Have you eaten today, babe?” Ava asked, putting down her glass.

“No,” I said.

I jumped the stairs and then drifted to tilt her head into a greeting kiss. I wasn’t really mad she was here. I also knew she also would have given me much more than a greeting if we didn’t have an audience.

Her smile was gentle as she reached into the bag at her feet and handed me two containers: oatmeal and raspberries.

“Are these from..?”

“Yeah. I got you other stuff, too,” she said, touching her thumb to the corner of my mouth.

Willingly, I sat down beside her and started eating with the spoon she gave me. Felicity was staring between me and Ava, shocked.

“Bit softer around the edges, hey?” Ava asked, one hand still on my thigh and the other wrapped around her glass.

I wrinkled my nose in disagreement as Felicity sighed, maybe in relief.

“Well, now you’re awake, I’m picking up Will and seeing if I can con my husband into making dinner twice in a row,” she said.

I waved with one hand raised as the elevator doors closed.

Immediately, Ava leaned over and kissed me, longer. She waited until I had swallowed my mouthful before she deepened it slightly.

I broke it, wanting to finish my oatmeal before she had her way with me.

“Impatient,” I grinned.

“I can’t help it,” she said, keeping her palms on the outside of my thighs.

“Are you just gonna watch me eat?” I said, pausing.

“Do you not want me to?” she said, smirking.

I gave her a tiny shrug that said, ‘do what you want.’

I finished the late breakfast she had brought me, downed my whiskey, and then let her drag me to the small cot and worship me until I could almost forget what I was doing there.

*****

I closed the file I had been perusing and called Gary in to hand it to him—it was higher clearance than the others.

“Did you manage to reach Captain Lance?” he asked, eyes wide.

Pursing my lips, I nodded, opening the next file.

Knowing better than to ask if I didn’t tell him outright, he left me to my stack. God, they were so boring. I loved paperwork, to an extent: it was an extension of the bureaucracy of my job, but I did have a lot of it to approve and plan.

I was so focussed on getting them out of the way that I missed the first few bars of my phone’s ringtone. When I realised, I grappled it out of my inside jacket pocket and didn’t look at the ID in my haste not to miss it. Missed calls in my job were problematic and slowed things down.

“Hello?” I said, slapping the file in front of me closed and putting it in my finished pile.

“Hi,” said a chirpy, unfamiliar voice. “Are you Ava?”

“How did you get this number?” I said, suspiciously.

Very few people had a number to my personal phone. Even less could call it while I was working and still keep their self-esteem.

“Let’s just say I find people for a living. It’s not really important how I did it, you wouldn’t really understand…”

“—Do you have a point?” I snapped.

“Oh, right. Sorry. You’re looking for Sara, right?”   
“Sara as in…my girlfriend, Sara?” I said.

“Yeah. Her. The Captain.”

“Yeah, I am, even though she asked me not to. But I’m…not really equipped to track down an ex-assassin that doesn’t want to be found,” I admitted.

If this strange woman knew Sara, she was probably either a criminal or one of her friends. Either way, she could probably be trusted. Sara was the most vigilante person I’d ever met.

“Well, lucky for you, I know exactly where she is, and I would like you to come here right now, please.”

I paused. “I don’t even know your name.”

“Oh I’m—my name is Felicity. Not sure if she’s mentioned me. If she hasn’t, then you’ll know me as the wife of the Mayor. Which I’m pretty sure you will know because you’ve worked here over five years and are definitely aware of the debacle that was my engagement. Though it is weird that you live in DC, if you work here, but hey, who am I to judge?”

She was right, I did know her. How she knew about my living situation, though, was confusing and troubling. I was private and careful by nature and by profession.

“You’re Felicity Smoak?”

“Mmmhmm,” she said, patiently.

“Where is she?” I asked.

“Check your computer.”

I jiggled the mouse of my laptop and stared at the screen in concerned awe. There was an address blinking on the screen—one I knew was just on the fringes of becoming the Glades.

“How did you--?”

“—Just get here please,” Felicity interrupted, and hung up.

Well, Sara was in Star City. I probably should have guessed.

“Gary!” I called.

Instantaneously, he rushed into the room. “Yes, Director Sharpe?”

“I have business in the city. Call me if there’s something really wrong, I’ll finish this when I get back. I’m not sure how long I’ll be.”

Vigorously, he nodded, and I tapped the address Felicity had given me into my time courier. The portal opened outside an abandoned, small, old office building. Cocking my head and squinting in bemusement, I pushed open the unlocked door and stepped into the dusty place. Posters of Oliver’s face were everywhere, and I frowned, crouching to pick one up.

I registered the odd, electronic hiss a moment too late and rushed to unholster my gun as I swivelled on the spot, aiming in the direction of the noise.

It was a short, stocky woman, wearing a set of high heels, a skin-tight, sleeveless shirt, and a pencil skirt. She was cute, and blonde, her hair tied back into a neat ponytail and clever eyes peering out from behind square-framed glasses. _Felicity Smoak._

She didn’t seem bothered by the gun, even though I had come very close to pulling the trigger.

“Hello,” she smiled.

“Hi. Sorry about the gun,” I replied, walking towards her.

“Don’t worry about it. I have scary friends,” she said, quirking an eyebrow before she turned and pressed her palm to the wall.

To my surprise, a section of the tan surface sunk in, and a panel slid away to reveal what looked like a neon-lit elevator. She gestured me inside and robotically, I followed her in, eyes all over the place.

While we rode it down, she asked, “How’d you get here so fast? I know your building is at least a quarter hour away.”

“I have my methods,” I responded cryptically.

She eyed me, but then stepped forward as the elevator doors reopened.

The first thing I registered was the screaming—terrified and grating through a raw throat. A sound I recognised very well from my nights with the Captain. There was a low, gruff male voice speaking through it, soothing and reassuring her that he was there with her.

“Oh, he’s back,” Felicity murmured to herself.

The second thing I registered was the room—it was centred around a white-lit, glowing platform with monitors running who knew what data, maps and status updates. It was darker around the edges; there was a table, training dummies, a salmon ladder, stands of weapons and various other sharp paraphernalia.

Sara’s screaming had subsided, though it had come from the area to my right.

“Where are we?”

“Well, technically it’s the Arrowcave, but Oliver calls it the bunker, so we have to call it the bunker,” Felicity said, leading me up the stairs to the raised platform.

“Oliver…Queen?”

“Yeah, him,” her voice was amused.

From the shadows, the man himself materialised, his intense gaze focussed on me under his cropped hair and short beard.

“You’re Ava?” he said.

He was wearing tan cargo pants and a short-sleeve, black shirt. The only thing that betrayed him as something dangerous was the way he moved. Just seeing him in person made me wonder how anyone could have thought he came out of five years on a deadly island and not learned something about pain.

“That’s me,” I confirmed.

“Oliver Queen. Nice to meet you,” he said, walking up to the platform to kiss his wife’s temple.

“You too,” I said.

His gaze flickered between me, Felicity, and then behind him.

“Is she okay?” I asked, trying not to sound pathetic.

He nodded, once. “She’s fine. Best to let her sleep, though. She hasn’t eaten much since she got here.”

“Yeah, I guessed. I do have a remedy for it, though.”

He didn’t move, or change his expression in any way, but I knew he wanted me to continue.

“I know where the Waverider is. I could bring her back some stuff from there.”

“That would be great,” he said.

He whispered something in Felicity’s ear. In response, she grabbed his arm and held it until he was too far away as he hulked to the elevator.

I was too polite to ask where he was going. Instead, I looked at Felicity and said, “Wanna come for a short trip on the Waverider?”

“We aren’t…time-travelling?” she cringed.

“No. Sara’s put them on lockdown and put me in charge, actually. So no way they’re going anywhere without her.”

“Right. Then yeah, I’ll come,” she agreed.

Wordlessly, I redirected my time courier and opened a portal to the galley. Gaping, Felicity followed me through.

“I would like to meet whoever made that thing,” she said, fascinated.

I nodded, and then walked straight to the food fabricator. She watched as I made oatmeal, Sara’s go-to breakfast; lasagne; First Lady Pie; a stack of sandwiches, and Sara’s beer of choice. Collecting a handful of cutlery, I opened a drawer to find a bag and stuffed all of the containers in.

“Thanks, Gideon,” I said.

“No problem, Director Sharpe.”

I reopened the portal and concluded the trip.

“Want a drink?” Felicity said, as I powered down the time courier.

“Sure.”

I sat and drank with Felicity until her eyes widened comically at something over my shoulder and I realised my girlfriend had woken up from her nap.

Twisting in my chair, I looked her over. She was wearing a singlet and was bare-foot.

“How’d you get here?” Her voice was emotionless, betraying nothing.

“Time Courier. Felicity found me. Told me where to find you,” I replied, levelling my tone as well.

Her feet silent on the clear floor, she poured herself some whiskey. That wasn’t great, considering I knew she hadn’t been eating.

“Have you eaten today, babe?” I asked, already knowing the answer.

Her shoulders tugged closer to her spine and she replied as I thought she would. In a smooth movement, Sara descended the stairs. She came straight to me and her callused fingers drew my jaw to her own. She tasted faintly like alcohol, and I wanted to draw her in, make up for the days I had missed, but Felicity was watching, and I wasn’t into PDA.

I gave her the smile I reserved for her only and reached into the bag I had brought from the rider, presenting her with the food.

“Are these from…?” she said, her expression finally gentling.

“Yeah. I got you other stuff, too,” I replied, touching the corner of that too-good-for-this-world soft smile.

To my relief—though I hadn’t really expected her to refuse it—she sat down beside me and started eating as soon as I handed her the spoon I had brought.

Our audience finally re-registered in my brain and I considered the hacker’s face. Her gaze was bouncing between me and the Captain, an odd, incredulous grimace fixing her mouth and nose.

“Bit softer around the edges?” I teased, settling one palm on my girlfriend’s leg and the other around my condensation-covered glass.

Sara’s nose scrunched, annoyed at the implication, and I heard Felicity’s heavy breath behind me.

“Well, now you’re awake, I’m going home and seeing if I can con my husband into making dinner twice in a row,” she said, and did so.

Sara waved with one hand, smiling around her food as Felicity disappeared into the elevator.

As soon as the doors joined, I leaned over to press my lips to hers, longer than the first. I knew she still had food but she looked so damn good. I felt her swallow and she let me deepen it, not as shallow as before. Enjoying it for a few seconds, she then pulled away.

“Impatient,” she smirked, eating another mouthful.

“I can’t help it,” I replied, almost groaning, needing to keep in contact with her.

She paused at my focussed gaze. “Are you just gonna watch me eat?  
“Do you not want me to?” I challenged.

She shrugged, nonchalant.

I waited until she had finished her (very overdue) breakfast and sculled her drink before I took her back to her bed to make love to her. She didn’t want to be fucked hard like usual, but gently, keeping me as close as possible at all times. I did everything she needed me to, knowing she craved the distraction.

I must have fallen asleep, because I jerked awake at a hollow, repetitive smacking sound. Abruptly, I sat up, silently thanking my post-orgasm self that I had thought to shower and dress us both before I passed out, because the first thing I registered was a shirtless Oliver.

Even in my bleary state, I was shocked by his skin. He had even more scars than Sara, as well as tattoos and what looked like purposeful brands. He was holding a pair of sticks. As I quickly shook off my bleariness, I recognised the hollow sound as them smacking against each other as he trained against my girlfriend, who was wearing only a sports bra.

The pair was lightning fast, strong. When one of them landed a hit (which could only be painful) the other only attacked harder, unflinching.

I wasn’t afraid of Sara; not now, anyway. I hadn’t even been that scared of her before I met her, because I had thought she was a careless screwup. But here, now, watching her fight someone I knew to be one of the most dangerous men alive—I was in awe. Every other time I had fought her, she had been holding back. I had always underestimated her.

At that moment, she flicked Oliver’s sticks away from him and brought him down so swiftly I had no idea how she did it. He patted the arm against his throat and she released him, smiling grimly.

“You can come out, now, Ava,” Oliver’s voice was not accusing.

Wincing, I emerged from Sara’s sleeping area.

“How’d you know?”

Enigmatically, he inclined his head slightly. “Spend five years fighting to survive and I guess you’ll find out.”

I was used to evasive answers, so I just threaded my fingers through Sara’s hair and pressed my lips to her temple in greeting. Her hairline was dark with sweat, and she leaned into my touch. It was like I could feel the coiled tension in her unravelling.

Grabbing his shirt, Oliver pulled it over his head, hiding those wicked scars, and said, “I’ll see you later.”

Her mouth a straight line, Sara nodded, and he left.

“What time is it?” I asked, suddenly concerned.

“Uh—9 maybe?” the Captain replied.

“What? In the morning?”

Shit! I did not expect to be gone that long.

“I called Gary. You seemed tired,” Sara shrugged, moving away from me to put the weapons back in their stand. “But you can go back to work if you want.”

“Do you want me to go back to work?” I asked.

To my disappointment, she pulled her singlet back on without answering.

“Uh, well. I’m going to a funeral, so. It’s up to you,” she said.

She was hiding it so well; how much she was hurting. I wasn’t quite an expert on Sara Lance yet, but I knew enough to know that. The nonchalance was suffocating her slowly.

“I’ll come with you,” I declared.

Her expression only rippled from pained to disbelieving for a second before she reschooled it. “You’re sure?”

Without hesitation, I nodded, pulling her to me by the hem of her sweaty exercise leggings. Hesitantly, she wrapped her arms around me, until I hugged her tighter, making her relax. Her spine was damp where I caged her against me, and so was her forehead as she hid in the join between my neck and shoulder. Sara allowed the hug for about a minute before she stepped out, shuddering out a breath.

“If you’re coming, you better shower with me then. We’ll be late otherwise,” the Captain said, tiredly.

Interlocking our fingers, she led me to the small bathroom. I finished showering first and portalled straight into my apartment to get dressed. When I returned, she was wearing dark skinny jeans, black boots, and a black long-sleeved shirt. She was braiding her hair with expert fingers behind her head, and then she tied it off and shrugged on her long overcoat. All of her movements were from muscle-memory, like she wasn’t quite behind the wheel.

“How’re we getting there?” I asked, trying to bring her back.

Blinking, she started a little at my voice. “Uh—Ollie’s…got a car. He’s gonna swing by. Fair warning, though, he might have other people with him.”

“That’s fine,” I reassured her.

I didn’t get to be Director with shitty people skills.

Raising her arm, Sara glanced at her (stolen) time courier. I watched as she straightened her shoulders and raised her chin, assembling the armour she’d need to get through this.

“Come on. He’ll be here soon,” she urged.

Catching her wrist, I entwined our hands and walked with her to the elevator. When we reached the office floor, I was surprised to find the sleek limousine idling on the curb across the street.

Suddenly, Sara pulled me forward, releasing me as she reached the door of the building. She was uttering a wondrous half-laugh before she halted just as suddenly, face falling. Confused, I followed her eyeline, and was floored to see Laurel Lance leaning against the door of the car, clad in similar attire to my girlfriend and me. She was older than photos I’d seen of her, grimmer, and she had bruising all over her face and a split lip, but it was still her.

As soon as Laurel saw Sara, she wrested herself off the car and strode towards her sister. The taller blonde stopped in front of us, folding her arms.

“Thank you. For calling me,” the Captain said, softly.

Her sister acknowledged her with a slow nod.

“This is probably really strange for you, right?” Laurel questioned, demeanour guarded.

I had no idea what was going on. I was still trying to take it in. Sara hadn’t warned me, told me.

My girlfriend breathed out quickly before smoothing her expression and saying, “a little.”

There was a pause, in which I could see Sara gather herself. “Are you—Are you like my Laurel?” she asked, haltingly.

_My_ Laurel? I thought.

Shaking her head, her expression self-hating and guilty through the purple stains of her bruises, Laurel said resolutely, “Hardly at all.”

Judiciously, Sara nodded. All three of us stood motionless for a moment before my girlfriend pivoted to pull me to her side.

“Uh—this is my girlfriend, Ava. Ava, this is Laurel Lance of Earth-2,” she said.

“Nice to meet you,” I said, quietly, refusing to release my hold on the Captain.

“You too,” replied Laurel, giving me a calculating once-over.

She turned away, making her way back to the car.

“What is going on?” I hissed in Sara’s ear as she tugged me forward.

She shook her head. _Later._

I accepted that was all the answer I would get and decided to put it aside for now. That’s what I was good at.

She helped me into the limo, as I was last in. Taking in the interior, I was beside Sara, who was beside Felicity. Across from me was Laurel, and beside her was Oliver and a solemn teenage boy, who studied me briefly before going back to staring at the floor between his feet.

The ride was quiet. I would have said awkward, but it wasn’t—just still and silent. Several times, I caught Felicity lightly touching Sara on her shoulder or arm. Her husband murmured into the boy’s ear, and it clicked that this was probably their son. Laurel just stared out the window or observed the rest, like I did. She was apart from them, but she was here, in this car with them. It was an odd balance.

The drive was relatively short, even by my standards: travelling by time courier had made me impatient with other forms of transport.

I steadied Sara as she climbed out of the limo; the former assassin had no balance problems, but she did need it, as she didn’t let go as I pulled her out of the way to let the others out. Oliver thanked the driver and patted the window sill before guiding his son with one hand and wrapping the other around his wife’s. Laurel was standoffish, striding paces behind them and in front of us.

I kissed the back of Sara’s hand and she sighed in response, eyes between her sister’s double’s shoulders as we walked into the graveyard.

**Author's Note:**

> So basically I love Sara Lance, her whole history and connection with Ollie, her love story with Ava, her team captainess, and her friendship with Felicity. So cute.   
> Hope y'all enjoyed!


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